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What were the chances, however, of her letting him?
Why the fuck did he have to be so fucking sexy?
Jess watched the big-city arson investigator stride away from her, with his big city suit—no doubt costing more than she made a year—and his big city haircut and his big city attitude. She narrowed her eyes, wishing she hadn’t hurried from the Wallaby Ridge fire station without first grabbing her sunglasses. She was going to get a headache from the glaring sun if she wasn’t careful.
You’ve already got a headache. Thanks to the bastard in the immaculate suit with the chiseled cheekbones. Seriously, what real living man looks like that?
Before she could stop herself, she dropped her gaze to Desmond Russell’s arse, noting with a traitorous throb how fucking good it looked in his suit pants.
Everything about him looked good. Nothing like his father at all. And it wasn’t just the tailored suit talking to her. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, impeccably groomed, square-jawed, hawked-nosed, salt-and-pepper poster boy for everything she secretly lusted after. The kind of man she never dated—huh! Dating? What the fuck is that?—not just because they didn’t exist out here in the Ridge, but because really, what would a man like that ever see in someone like her?
“Captain?”
At the deep timbre of Desmond’s voice, Jess flinched. She jerked her gaze up to his face, unable to miss the twitch of his lips. The realization that he’d caught her staring at his butt flooded her cheeks with heat.
Damn it. Why couldn’t he look like his father? The drunken, conceited, condescending bastard who’d snubbed her when she’d tried to point out evidence of an accelerant in the fire that had killed her brother. Who’d scoffed at her when she drew his attention to the melted wax residue on the floor beside the charred remains of a stack of newspapers she knew hadn’t been piled by a chair in her brother’s living room the night before.
“Yes?” she snapped, confusion strangling her irritation. Was she angry with herself for getting busted checking out his backside, or for actually checking out his backside? Or was she angry with him for being a big city arson investigator sent in to investigate a fire in her territory? Or for being the son of the jerk who dismissed the evidence she’d found about her brother’s death?
Perhaps it’s because despite all those things, you’d still climb him like a pole and seek out his tonsils with your tongue at the drop of a—
“Are you going to join me in the helicopter, Captain Montgomery?” His twitching lips curled into a smile. The kind that made Jess’s pussy throb and her ire heat. “Or are you going to meet me at the scene of the fire?”
Jess ground her teeth. Movement behind Desmond grabbed her attention. Evan Alexander, the area’s only aviation firefighter, was walking towards them both.
Another wave of heat rushed through Jess, this time at the unnerving thought of being in the small confines of Wallaby Ridge Rural Fire Brigade’s Bell 205 with Desmond as they flew to the Deputy PM’s remote homestead, two hundred and forty-two kilometres away.
She opened her mouth to say there wasn’t a hope in hell she was flying with him to the burnt-out remains of the Deputy PM’s homestead, and then caught sight of that small twitch of Desmond’s lips again.
The bastard was smirking at her. Thought he’d ruffled her feathers.
Ha. As if. It took more than a sexy guy in a killer suit with wholly kissable lips and a jawline she just wanted to lick—
Jesus, woman. Stop it!
Pulling a breath, she met the bastard’s Ray Ban-covered gaze. “Of course I’m joining you in the helicopter.”
Did he just cock an eyebrow at her?
Grinding her teeth, she strode toward him. Past him. Heading for the Bell, where it sat on the helipad next to the Ridge’s miniscule airport terminal. “Someone has to be there to point everything out,” she threw over her shoulder.
Behind her, Desmond remained silent.
Jess refused to check if the insult had ruffled him.
Instead, she stomped over to the chopper, yanked open the cockpit door and climbed into the copilot’s seat.
Desmond Russell might be the sexiest man she’d ever laid
eyes on, but she was putting him firmly in his place right now.
And that place was not in control of the fire scene investigation or her.
The sooner he wised up to that, the better for everyone.
Chapter 2
This was not a boat accident.
